


Fate can Wait

by JoMouse



Series: Sterek Valentine Week 2021 [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Don't copy to another site, Fate, Fate & Destiny, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29450952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMouse/pseuds/JoMouse
Summary: Derek realizes what he'd been missing in New York.Written forSterek Valentine Week. Day 7 Theme: Fate.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Sterek Valentine Week 2021 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151975
Comments: 7
Kudos: 82
Collections: Sterek Valentine Week





	Fate can Wait

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings and Salutations!
> 
> Yay! I've done it! Seven days. Seven fics. Can I go to sleep now? 
> 
> Unbeta'd again because it's nine o'clock at night and I've only just now finished.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this and thank you so much to everyone for all the wonderful support every day this week! I'll be responding to comments tomorrow, I promise!!!!
> 
> On an unrelated note, the amazing [kitkat0723](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkat0723/pseuds/kitkat0723) gifted me with a lovely Sterek story. Everyone should check out [Love Day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29439804). Thank you again, sweetie, for the lovely gift!
> 
> xx-Joey
> 
> Don't know 'em. Don't own 'em. Don't show 'em.

Derek sat on the edge of the cliff, looking out over the Preserve. His sister was waiting for him in the car, ready to leave Beacon Hills and all the memories behind, but he needed to take a moment to say goodbye. As much as he wanted to get away from the tragedy that had taken his family, a part of him longed to remain in the woods where he’d spent his life until that point. When the sun set and darkness surrounded him, he climbed to his feet and called out a goodbye. 

Climbing into the car, he pressed his forehead against the passenger side window and watched the city go past. His heart sped up as they passed the Sheriff’s station, one of the deputies that had been at the fire stood on the steps, a young boy at his side. The boy’s arms were flailing, and Derek heard him talking so fast he couldn’t make out the words. His heart ached with the desire to listen to the words and the story. There was a ripping feeling in his chest as they rounded the corner, and he lost sight of the police station.

Derek existed in New York with his sister for almost six years. His sister bothered him constantly about the way he went about his days. He got up, went to school, went to work, came home, went to bed only to do it all over again the next day. On weekends he would sleep away most of the day unless Laura dragged him out of bed to do something, anything that wasn’t within the five square mile area where Derek spent the rest of his days.

She tried talking to him, wanted to ask him what was wrong. When she did, Derek just told her that he didn’t know, that something was just missing from his life. He couldn’t even find the energy to care what happened every day and nearly flunked out of high school because of it. Eventually, Laura got him to care about school enough to graduate with a high enough GPA to get accepted to NYU to study history. Derek still struggled every day as he tried to find what was missing.

Laura assumed he was missing their family, their Pack, and started sending out messages to other Packs they’d known, asking for any photographs they might have to share. She put them in frames around the apartment, but Derek would just stare blankly at them. Except for one photo that had arrived about four years into their New York residency. This photo was of Derek and his mother. They were standing next to a heavily pregnant woman holding a knitted blue blanket. Derek remembered his mother making the blanket for a pregnant friend, and he’d insisted on going with her to deliver it.

Derek stared at the picture, trying to remember the woman’s name. He thought it started with a ‘C,’ but she said she didn’t remember the woman when he asked Laura. Derek frowned and reached to touch the woman’s face in the photo, hoping it might trigger something, but his hand slipped to her large belly instead. Warmth spread through him as he ran his fingers over the image, and he felt something tugging in his chest. Rubbing at the ache, he thought for the first time about returning to Beacon Hills. Still, he immediately discarded the idea, putting the photo back on the windowsill and heading into the kitchen to start dinner.

A year later, Laura announced she was going back to Beacon Hills. Derek tried to stop her, but she promised to be back within a week; she just needed to take care of some family business. Derek frowned as he watched her go. He spent every night for a week in Laura’s bed, the photo of his mom and the pregnant woman on the pillow next to him.

Laura never came back. He packed up and left New York, heading to Beacon Hills to try and find her. She didn’t answer her phone, and when he tried to track it, there was no signal. She wasn’t the best about remembering to charge it, but dread filled his chest the closer he got to Beacon Hills. Driving past the welcome sign, he rubbed at his chest, a strange feeling filling it, almost like something was knitting itself together.

He drove past the high school, slowing down when he saw a long-limbed teenager falling out of an old blue Jeep. The boy was talking a mile a minute, his arms gesturing wildly as he spoke to another teen with a mop of black hair and a crooked jaw. Something familiar ran through him, and he found his fingers itching as the name “Claudia” popped into his head, and he knew it was the pregnant woman from the photo he’d packed into his duffle. 

Driving out to the remains of his family home, he exited the car and sniffed the air. He followed his sister’s scent deep into the woods, collapsing to the ground when he found her. Or at least half of her. His heart broke as he threw his head back and howled his grief. He sobbed as he buried her, burning his hands on the wolfsbane vines he wound around her grave. His heart hardened as he thought only of avenging his sister’s death.

A few days later, he scoured the woods for a clue to the murderer when a sound reached his ears. Groaning, he followed the noise to find two teens rustling through the leaves and quietly arguing. They were the two from the high school near the Jeep, and Derek felt that strange ache in his chest as he watched them. He could scent a new wolf in the air, but not which one it was coming from. Standing and watching them, he wanted to laugh when they noticed him, and they both startled.

Instead, he growled out, “This is private property!”

Listening to them, he realized the inhaler he’d found earlier belonged to them and was what had brought them to the woods. Stepping closer, he tossed it to the one with the crooked jaw, realizing he was the wolf when he caught it with ease. The other looked as if he was trying to disappear, ducking his head and running his hand over his buzzed hair; the scent of arousal on him made Derek’s wolf grumble, and he had to force himself to remain still. He really wanted to bury his face in the teen’s neck but didn’t want to scare him when he did.

After they left, Derek’s heart tugging as they disappeared, he headed back to the house and pulled out the photo, holding it to his chest while he took deep breaths. Glancing at the picture, his eyes were drawn to the woman’s belly again, and he ran his fingers over it. As he did, the image of the human boy popped into his head. He forced it out as he went out to try and find the other boy, wanting to offer his help with his transition.

As weeks passed and he was on the search for the rogue Alpha that had bitten Scott, the crooked-jawed boy, he found himself crawling into his best friend’s window. Stiles had proven helpful, and Derek felt drawn again and again to his side. Right now, he was hiding because Scott had declared him a murderer. Again. 

Stepping into Stiles’ room through the window, he was blown away by the strength of his scent in the space. He did his best to ignore the apparent teen smells of arousal and spunk while he picked through the detritus thrown about the room. He knelt by the foot of the bed when he spotted something blue sticking out from underneath the duvet. He pulled the item towards him and dropped it when he identified the blanket from the picture back at his house.

Moving slowly, he reached for it and pulled it to his face, inhaling the scent of the boy and somewhere deep within it, another scent that must have been his mother. He knew that Stiles’ mother had died shortly before the fire that had killed his family, so it was amazing the scent was still there.

Running his fingers over the stitches, he remembered his mother making the blanket. His fingers froze when he found something he’d never noticed. In darker blue yarn, stitched into one corner, was a wolf and a fox curled together. Underneath the image were the initials “D.H.” and “M.S.” Derek knew the first initials were his and would have thought the other initials would be Stiles,’ but then they would be “S.S.”

Derek had seen items like these before in his life. His mother had explained that sometimes she had dreams where she would see images and initials before a child’s birth. She’d explained that they usually meant that child had a mate out there, but human children didn’t have mates, so he couldn’t understand why she would give this to Stiles’ mother and why it would have someone else’s initials on them.

Shoving the blanket back under the bed when he heard the Jeep coming down the street, Derek pushed himself to his feet and tried to find a good place to stay out of sight in the room. As he moved to a spot behind the door, his eyes fell on a stack of mail on the dresser. The envelope on top was from Beacon Hills Federal Bank and addressed to Mieczyslaw Stilinski. M.S. Stiles’ real name was Mieczyslaw. He heard his mother saying the name to Derek, correcting him when he said Mischief instead.

Stiles was Derek’s mate. The burn in his chest grew until he nearly fell to the ground from the power of it. Derek pushed himself to his feet just as Stiles came into the room, shouting to his dad. Derek moved quickly to shove Stiles into the door, wanting to bury his face into his neck and confess everything, but he realized the Sheriff was home, and the last thing he needed was to be arrested just when he’d found his future in the least likely place.

There would be time later to tell Stiles the fantastic news. They had all the time in the world to be together. After all, they were meant to be together forever. He thought about the blanket, about his mother, about Stiles’ mother, about fate. Yes, this awkward, spastic young man was his fate and he couldn’t be happier about that fact. He ignored the warmth running through him as his heart knit back together. Right now, fate could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say 'hi' on tumblr (josjournal) or Twitter (JolynnMG).


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